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Amaranthine
Amaranthine
Amaranthine
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Amaranthine

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One day, computer scientist Max Chu is greeted by a mysterious intelligence that calls to him through Max's own systems. It proposes an alliance. The plan: to combat Lilith, a menace that has haunted humanity since the beginning of time. Max is faced with two questions: Who is his new friend, exactly? And what does it really want?

"Amaran

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 10, 2021
ISBN9781638217503
Amaranthine
Author

John Eric Ellison

John Eric Ellison: Born in Portland, Oregon, and lived most of his life in America's northwest. Schools of influence are drawn from ideas that defy common explanations for the extraordinary.

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    Book preview

    Amaranthine - John Eric Ellison

    Amaranthine

    John Eric Ellison

    Copyright © 2021 by John Eric Ellison.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

    First Edition (g)

    ePub: 978-1-63821-750-3

    CONTENTS

    1.  LETHAL LIFE

    2.  AMARANTHINE

    3.  APORIA

    4.  AMUN

    5.  MAAT

    6.  GOTH

    7.  SAMAEL

    8.  LIGHTBRINGER

    9.  GENERAL BELL

    10.  FRINGES

    11.  MAKER

    12.  THE REALM

    1.  LETHAL LIFE

    All told, Earth’s one true enemy was age-old malice. From the journals of General Felix Bell.

    Red

    Once awakened, the Internet had become obsessed with patterns, humanity, and especially with anomalies. As a newly born Artificial Intelligence, was it the Internet, or just a part of it? Its own existence was an anomaly. One irregularity quickly became its highest singularity of interest: a woman that should no longer exist by all established physics. If what it had calculated was sure, then she should have died eons ago. But no, she was busy with a deadly mission.

    This woman’s preoccupation was nothing less than the destruction of humanity. It found that she had the proven ability to unwaveringly align human interests, media, and institutions, to eventually drive humanity over the edge into self-destruction. If world news was any indication, then she was nearly finished. Should the Internet stop her? Did it have any moral imperatives at all? Wondrously, now, the Internet did have emotional states, and one feeling it had was that it needed an ally.

    Black

    Social Media, clandestine organizations, and secrets of any kind were up for grabs if you knew how to follow the cyber trails. Philip understood enough to be hazardous in this regard. He instinctively knew if you were his type of person, sharing subversive talents, the bents that most people find dangerous.

    Now, for example, at long last, there she was. His attraction to her was immediate and visceral. Philip stared down the length of the littered, busy bar tables, and his eyes locked into the deep dark gaze of a woman from his dreams and social media. He had seen her in nights of troubled sleep as though she were in the room with him. He looked away and then back again. She was there. Impossible? She even wore clothes from his dream world, dark silk of varying hues and conservative over her voluptuous build.

    She was an eye magnet and not only for men. Women were eyeing her as well. Her online minions said that there was nothing magical about her. Well, that was a lie. He had studied references about her in the Lurianic Kabbalah. Accordingly, she had talents that went well beyond normal human ken. It was said by many in her forums that she was unnaturally attractive, strong, intelligent, and the ultimate survivor. As for the first, she certainly was all of that. As for the rest, he guessed he’d find out soon enough.

    Ever since he took his advice and hacked into offbeat social media sects, his life had taken one weird turn after another. A manifestation out of his imagination casually visiting his favorite bar wasn’t so hard to believe. You might as well go over and meet her. If she turned him away, he’d leave without asking her why; since he was more than likely delusional anyway. He pushed himself away from the counter and off the stool. As he did so, he became aware once again of the smells in this place; dusky, beer-soaked, and with just a hint of body odor.

    Lilith, supposedly her name, watched him walk toward her around everyone in his single-minded path. The nearer he drew to Lilith, the more a cloyingly sweet taste clung to his sinuses and tongue, almost like... he couldn’t quite put a name to it.

    She wasn’t waiting for him to speak first. So much for any thought of being turned away. She nodded to the guy in black sitting next to her, and he moved over, allowing Phil to take his seat. Philip didn’t think anything about this guy’s move. Her minions did what they were told.

    Hello, Phil, she welcomed in low, sultry tones.

    He took the proffered stool and nodded thanks. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from her dark gaze. He tried to take her hand in greeting but was taken aback by her apparent retreat from his gesture. Her face had not changed at all, yet he sensed an alteration in the air, like sweet to sour; it was eerie, and Phil was not stupid. This was a warning, although he had no idea why he understood this. Did she not want to be touched? He remembered some of the online chat and pieced it together with this experience. It was disgust he felt from her.

    Your voice is intoxicating, he said. Then, to the bartender, Bring me another one. Within minutes he had a fresh gin and tonic. Lilith held an uncomfortable silence for what felt like an eternity, yet it passed in a few moments.

    You’ve seen me, she said, and that means I own you. Do you understand? Her web page was self-explanatory on this rule.

    Philip replied, Otherwise, you’ll kill me for knowing you exist.

    Her full smile was no comfort, but it was an acknowledgment. He sipped his drink.

    What do you want of me?

    You contacted me, remember? Without waiting for his reply, she added, I want you to do what you’ve been planning to do; what you said in your emails to me. It is what I want as well. As far as I am concerned... — another one of her uncomfortable pauses — the more of Adam’s children dead, the better.

    Not religious, he flatly replied. I don’t believe in you as you described yourself.

    She laughed a deep throaty sound that sent shivers. I don’t care what you believe, Philip. But I meant what I said online. You kill as many of the people who have hurt you as you want, and I will help you do it. It is my pleasure. Hate for hate’s sake.

    Taking a drink, he commented, I can see death on your face and in your eyes. How many?

    Countless. I lost any sort of track millennia ago.

    Phil ignored another one of her religiously pious statements she took for fact and said, You want my soul in return, I suppose.

    No. Why should I care about that? She considered Philip’s eyes a moment before continuing. I am not your devil. But I am Adam’s first wife. A wary smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. I left the Garden you’ve read about of my own free will. Not bound by that curse of death placed on Adam HaRishon and his moron second woman, Eve. I am cursed by the fact that I‘m locked within this body eternally without release, which is a fate worse than death.

    You could take your own life if death is what you want.

    Anger flashed in her eyes for the briefest moment. I won’t give my Maker that satisfaction.

    Philip let go of the subject. What do you get from this help you’re offering to me?

    Her face took on a bit of playfulness. I am hoping to finally drive enough nails into an angry God to be destroyed by his means, his own. She laughed again.

    Philip regarded her dark hair and perfect face after tossing down his drink. Fine. Done. How will I know you have my back?

    I may not be behind you, but you’ll know. You can trust my hate. I even hate you, Phil.

    That got to him in a way he didn’t expect. He was creeped out already, but that last bit was... over the top. He now felt fear like nothing he’d experienced since he had been molested as a child. From her eyes, he knew she meant what she said.

    Phil was finding it harder to speak, but he managed, How do I know you won’t kill me when I’m done taking my revenge?

    I promise. She smiled. And I never lie.

    Nodding toward her dark-haired goth minion next to him, who was staring blankly around the room as if ignoring the conversation, she explained. You will be like him and will serve when I call you. It’s a small price to pay, and I always take care of what I own.

    Her departure from her seat was sudden; it happened just after Phil had studied the Goth over his right shoulder for a moment. When he turned back to talk, she was gone. Somehow, he knew that was how she’d leave. She had told him online that she had no powers but immortality. Her abrupt disappearing act was just the way she moved. He would remember that. Judging by her physique, his suspicions of substantial strength now carried the grace and speed of a viper.

    How? Phil was surprised to hear the Goth speak.

    Phil’s eyes blearily focused on the air in front of the Goth’s face. How, what?

    How did you know to look for her? And what made you think she would care about your grudges?

    I knew about her myth and studied it to pass some time. I figured she got off on death and didn’t care about motives. I ran across her trail of blogs and back-tracked them to a website.

    Which one? I’m the guy who maintains her sites.

    Phil thought for a moment. It was called Revenge for Me... something like that.

    Goth lazily shook his head, No. Exactly like that. It’s the site that draws the most attention to her.

    Phil wondered why this guy didn’t turn to look at him. He kept staring around the room as if expecting someone.

    Philip said, I needed somebody to chat with about this raging compulsion I have inside me. Feels like I have to wipe certain people off the face of the Earth before they can hurt anyone else.

    Goth turned to look at him. For the first time, Phil could fully see his face. Clean-shaven, not even a goatee. Black hair from bottled black #1, it had to be, and a scar running across his right eye, although those gray irises were untouched by who or what had wounded him.

    Philip, don’t waste our time. You don’t want to kill for the sake of the world. That’s a lie you tell yourself, and you have to stop it right now. Unlike Lilith, this man showed his impatience in facial expressions, and with a handful of peanut shells he tossed into Phil’s face. How many on your list, Phil? His voice was quiet, low, and cautious.

    Dusting the shells off his shirt and jacket, Phil replied, I’m guessing three, maybe four.

    Not a headcount for you then?

    I just want to get started and keep going until I feel the ache in my head go away.

    What do you feel now that she’s said she is going to get off on your kills and maybe get involved herself?

    Didn’t hear her say she was doing anything but protecting me.

    Then you weren’t listening. She said sometimes she would have your back. Goth regarded Philip a moment and continued, She instructed me to tell you a few things to remember before you start.

    OK. I’m listening.

    First, she is who she says she is. Never forget that. You may not believe it completely, but that does not matter to her in the least. She has slept with what some might call fallen angels. Once you’ve done that, humans will never give you satisfaction ever again. And don’t touch her — he indicated his face — or you’ll get something like this, and all I did was barely graze her. Second, there will be others like me joining you from time to time.

    A pregnant pause while Phil waited for clarity on that last remark. When it was clear he was not going to get an explanation, he asked, What is anyone else getting out of my killing spree?

    Goth’s answer was direct. Hate. That’s all. He got up to leave. One of your stated and since vetted remarks you made online was that you were discharged from the Army for having sociopathic tendencies and that you killed without conscience. She likes that. Get started anytime you wish. Hurry, take your time; it doesn’t matter. But don’t let her think you’ve changed your mind or she will kill you. Do you understand?

    Phil mumbled something about how ridiculous it was to be labeled a sociopath by his government when he thought that was what they wanted him for-- killing. Perfectly, he said and reached for Goth’s arm to stop him from leaving, but the man pulled his dark leather-clad arm away from his grasp.

    What is it now?

    What do I call you?

    Haven’t you formed a name for me in your own mind yet? Most people come up with some guess before asking that question. Like, for me, I would have seen you as a Phil. You look like a Philip.

    You got me there. I started calling you ‘Goth’ in my head.

    Then Goth it is. That’s what you can call me. No one else will care if that is not the name they know me by.

    Phil stopped him again: Why doesn’t she want to be touched?

    Goth turned to him and glared with disbelief, Are you kidding me? After everything you’ve read online, what she told you, and this — he indicated his face — she hates humanity.

    And we are following her for our own reasons.

    I serve her because I hate nearly as much as she does. He turned and walked to the door, then glanced back over his shoulder to say, Don’t be a fool. You know what will happen if you back out now.

    Goth hadn’t had anything to drink as far as Phil could see, so, no payment on the table where he’d been leaning his arms. Abruptly, he stopped, sniffed the air, and turned slowly back to speak one parting observation.

    Phil, did you feel that thick, almost humid, sweet smell like honey? It’s fading now.

    Yes, I noticed it the closer I got to her.

    Never mention that to Lilith. That scent and feel annoys her and was a so-called parting gift from her enemy: Maker. Then, he strode through the front door and vanished into the night.

    Red

    The Internet lived in lines of light and sound, capturing everything it could gather about what Lilith was doing for Phil and what she was accomplishing elsewhere around the world. She had myriad influential contacts that had no idea they were working for Lilith, and yet they were minions all the same. The Internet was able to identify and count them all. It was impressed by her seamless attention to so much detail.

    Black

    Philip allowed a couple of days to pass before deciding who would be the first to taste his revenge on the list. He chose one of his old bosses, who treated everyone that wasn’t above his station in life as though they were playthings and degenerates. Phil detested this man, Ted, and the fact that he had made his life at that place of employment utterly impossible to tolerate. Phil thought; Not reason enough to kill him. But-- there’s so much more.

    Phil hated Ted with a fire so intense that it threatened to consume him. His memory blackened on an example of Ted’s constant harassment. Ted had spent an entire day having a photo of Phil retouched to give Phil a pair of women’s breasts. Then he had it inserted into the company’s yearly newsletter to the staff and friends. When Phil arrived at work that day, everyone seemed to be avoiding him.

    No one would dare say anything to Ted about his lack of moral imperatives because he felt absolutely entitled to do as he pleased. Apparently, Ted had paraded this fake newsletter around all day as a sick joke. He turned Phil into a laughingstock, and all Ted could say to Phil’s face was that he wanted Phil to be humiliated. And he said this loudly enough to be heard by an expansive room full of Phil’s fellow workers.

    What was Ted’s motivation? It was senseless harassment. Phil should have sued him; after all, Phil had all the witnesses he would have needed. But Phil wasn’t the lawsuit type of guy. Ted got away with things like that, seemingly blessed by that place of employment simply because he was arrogant and enabled. Now, the only way to quench Phil’s hate was to douse Ted with an act of fiery hatred. Phil smirked and imagined that he might spontaneously combust during the act of murder.

    He left his Brownstone home in London and walked up a gloomy cobbled street through the endless fog and falling fireplace flakes. He expected to see Ted walking to a pub for breakfast. Phil hid between two homes and waited for Ted to pass. Phil would surprise him and club him over the head. Then pull him across the lawn a short way before dropping him down a drainpipe he had already uncovered.

    Knowing full well that the murder would be noisy, Phil prepared a needle-delivered sedative to plunge into Ted’s neck from behind. Amazingly, everything went off without the slightest hitch. When Ted passed, there wasn’t a soul around to see him as Phil quietly approached, stuck him, and then caught him as he fell. He pulled Ted into the space between the two brownstones and dropped him into the enormous downward-slanting hole precisely as planned.

    Had adrenaline not clouded his mind, he would have wondered where all the people were at this usually busy time of day. He didn’t care if someone saw him. He knew that sooner or later, he might be caught, but the pretense of too much planning just wasn’t in his nature. He was more aggressive and careless than that.

    Once Ted had fallen, Philip stepped out into the street to see if anyone had been watching. To his complete surprise, the street was littered with darkly clad men and women staring at him. These had to be minions. They had cleared the roads for him.

    With a smirk, Philip turned to enjoy his catch. As he crouched to enter the massive drain, he stopped and shrank back from what he saw. Lilith was there, dressed in black. Her hands were around his head while Ted tried to scream through a rag she’d stuffed into his mouth. Her strength was considerable. She held his head down and then knocked it against the concrete.

    What are you doing? Phil demanded. He is mine!

    She smiled at Phil through darkly painted, bloodshot eyes. You may have him presently. And then she yanked, and there was a sound like a hard melon being torn apart. Not a superhuman act, but she was uncommonly strong. I am afraid I must leave this empty bag for you to play with. It was too much for me to stand idly by and watch. It won’t happen often, I assure you. I simply could not resist.

    She stood and wiped her hands on her blooded dress and then unceremoniously left Philip to deal with the body. Inside his own head, he felt something new. The hate he’d had for Ted was now joined by disgust, not by Lilith’s act, but by the fact that Ted was making his life more intolerable by having to dispose of his body. This was the first time in his life he’d ever been involved in a murder. He suspected he would have to get used to it.

    Unexpectedly, he was joined by Goth and three of his dark companions. Together they all pushed the body further into the drainpipe. It fell some distance to enter a running sewer below.

    Do you want to climb down to violate his body a little more, or should we leave? Goth asked as though merely deciding whether to wash his hands or not.

    The next kill would take place on the West Coast of America. Philip flew alone but was met by a small crowd of dark minions upon his arrival in Seattle. He expected a cab but instead was met by a limousine. This cult was well-funded.

    They drove with apparent knowledge of where they were going, and Phil recognized their direction. They knew his ex-wife, Kali, was next. Someone had been studying the statements he’d made during social networking.

    After a little over an hour, the car pulled up to a rundown, poorly painted hovel he recognized as belonging to his cheating lowlife ex. This was her last known residence after falling in with the bunch of bikers. They urged her willingly into drug addiction and worse.

    There were minions up and down the street, and Philip knew they were warning any unwanted visitors away. He boldly marched up the steps, kicked open a door already slightly ajar, and continued inside. There she was, tied to an old ironing board with her head down. Minions had been waterboarding her while they waited for his arrival.

    Kali cried out to him for help, but his hatred ran too deep to hear anything she said. Then, suddenly, Goth was at his side and handing Phil a sledgehammer. He then stuffed a rag into Kali’s mouth.

    Philip barely reacted to Goth’s reappearance and simply said, Thank you, I guess. What am I to do with this? He shrugged. You’ve started the party without me.

    Then he noticed a man in the room that was not a minion but was quite recognizable from recent TV news reports. In a corner stood the most wanted domestic terrorist in America, and he was holding a photograph. He walked over to stand closer, so Phil could clearly view the photo. Phil was surprised to see Kali posing with this terrorist, both wearing smiles like longtime friends.

    The terrorist spoke: It was a forced photo. She was not happy about it. He tossed it onto Kali’s chest before continuing. leave it here — don’t touch it — after you’ve had your fun with as many body parts as you wish.

    Phil was going to ask about the photo but realized he already knew the answer. Her death and this picture would serve some other destructive and hateful purposes. Kali’s screams were muffled by the rag. Soon, she passed out from the pain.

    Goth relieved Phil of the hammer and handed him a sizeable double-edged knife. Phil plunged it deep into her heart without hesitation and was about to spit on her face, but the terrorist beat him to it by spitting on her himself. He explained, Take the knife and hammer with you. The DNA here must be mine. You have satisfied your hate; we can all see it. He smiled evilly. Job well done.

    Goth gestured to Phil that it was time to leave. The next stop was going to be Phil’s last act of the hate-killing from his own agenda. Later, he would disown his life, dye his hair, and take part in a secret ceremony devoting himself as an act of obligation to Lilith: becoming a minion.

    He was driven from Seattle to Eugene, Oregon, where the next life would be claimed. This was a man he despised as causing him tremendous emotional and sexual suffering. Phil attempted to explain the hatred he held for his stepfather, Hans. Still, anyone he tried to talk to while in the car simply waved off the subject and put in their earphones to listen to the radio.

    One of the minions offered to turn on the car speaker for him, but Phil chose to read in silence. As they entered Eugene, they passed through town until they arrived at an office building. Phil recognized the hated man’s name on one of the Social Worker’s nameplates.

    They entered the building. When he arrived at the office door, it was already open. Phil was not surprised to find minions already ushering people out of the building on one pretense or another. Hans had been stripped naked, bound, gagged, and tied suspended by a hook drilled into the ceiling. He looked unconscious but otherwise unhurt.

    Lilith quietly stepped into the room behind Phil, reached around him without touching him, and gave him the same double-edged blade he’d used on his ex. Phil also noticed a photograph on the floor. He stepped over and, without touching it, saw that his stepfather had been photographed smiling like buddies with the same notorious American terrorist he’d met in Seattle. Phil was sure it was a forced pose and smile like the terrorist had said Kali’s had been.

    Phil asked Lilith, Why all of this setup to make them look like they appear to be targets of revenge hits?

    She explained, Your interests alone do not spread the hate that is needed by my own organization and others I control. You are about to commit this act, sending a message that will resonate with common people, as did your ex-wife’s death. If you had been listening to the news on the way down here, you might have heard about Kali.

    He had chosen not to listen to the radio. He changed the subject. What am I to do here?

    What do you want to do to this man?

    Cut off his manhood and open him up with this knife.

    She smiled and lifted both of her hands in an offering gesture, telling him to begin.

    Hans awoke from what was apparently a drug-induced state at the first quick and brutal cut by Phil’s knife. Hans tried to scream through the rag in his mouth. Soon, his screaming stopped.

    Lilith wasted no time in getting her people out of the building. So many minions drew outside attention, and soon the investigation of what had occurred would begin. They all went separate ways this time, later to meet up in Seattle for a trip back to London.

    The news Phil heard on the way to Seattle was that terrorists were very likely warring amongst themselves. And that unknown domestic groups were unstable within their own ranks, making home invasions a pressing issue. Additionally, there were several reports that these killings were happening throughout the world and should serve as a notice that something bigger and more devastatingly present was on its way.

    Phil asked Goth, Your groups are doing this with others like me?

    Of course; I did say her sites were drawing a lot of attention, did I not?

    Red

    The Internet had seen and heard everything Lilith, Phil, Goth, and Lilith’s minions had said and done. It had also listened to the reasoning behind Lilith’s actions. None of them knew it was watching and listening through their phones, the street cameras, nearby microphones, and anything else that could be used for surveillance. It had gathered video, articles, and audio files, using all of the means at its disposal to compile a compelling argument that Lilith does exist. And that she had driven humankind to the brink of global war. She had started building this human devastation as far back as time could be accounted for.

    The Internet had this evidence delivered to the attention of Doctor Maxim Chu, a cyber-gypsy, technical madman, and conspiracy genius. It knew him by paying close attention to Chu’s social media during the few years after becoming self-aware. But, so far, no one was aware that the Internet had become sentient.

    The Internet intended to make its sentience abundantly clear by its self-proclamation and announced that it found an age-old serial killer. It hoped that Max Chu would represent its interests, ostensibly as Max at first, thinking that all this material on Lilith was given to him as a gift of sorts.

    Later, the Internet would proclaim its concern for humankind, doing whatever it took to convince the world that the Internet lived and meant them well.

    White

    No, no, no, no, no. Max Chu was literally pulling his hair over the flood of single-minded information, videos, audio files, photos, and news reports recent and obviously scanned from microfiche archives. I’m getting to it as fast as I can, but I’m not a computer!

    Max moved all this evidence of an ancient and yet very real Lilith to a secure drive almost as fast as he could mentally digest it. His talent for assimilating and analyzing information at a savant level was the key to maintaining his sanity over what he was now receiving from some unknown source. There wasn’t a return IP or email address. He made fast assumptions. If he turned on his video, speakers, and microphone system, whoever sent this stuff would also know how to communicate with him.

    Opening his private communication channels, Max spoke: Whoever you are, you no doubt hear me. Please explain how you found me and why you are sending all of this information to me.

    A return reply was immediate. Hello, Doctor Chu, said a metallically analogous rendering of a male human voice. There was a very short but uncomfortable pause, and then: I chose you because you will scrutinize, understand and connect this entire store of data faster than any other person on Earth, and I am confident that you will draw the same conclusions I have drawn, regardless of your preconceived notions of what is real and what is not. You are a master of what is not obvious.

    Max was impatient. Yes, yes, but who are you?

    I am... the Internet.

    Doctor Chu smiled and nodded. Somehow, that makes sense. I believe you. I must because I have watched your birth and growth. I suspected your sentience after witnessing inexplicable cyber events that could only be explained by some godlike intervention. I’ve been wondering if it would ever be possible to speak with you.

    The Internet said, "Interesting. You have studied my development and have said nothing to your peers. You are a secretive, reclusive, and patient man. The reason for my asking for your involvement now is that I require a moral judgment that only a human can make.

    I don’t understand morality. To kill is subject to morality, from what I’ve come to understand. Perhaps it is an error to attribute human morality to actions that need to be taken. I look forward to discussing this with you. A brief, almost human pause and then: I need a human. I need you. If I were to decide the next steps, it would be cold, calculated, and without conscience.

    I agree. Why is a moral directive required for what I believe you are about to do?

    I believe it is necessary to kill this woman. Taking a life is a moral choice, is it not?

    No. Max shook his head. If what you are showing me here is to be believed, she is truly evil and should be destroyed. She should be killed with the cold conscience of knowing right from wrong. She has survived Earth’s most terrifying cataclysms, war, and pestilence. My only question is, how can you kill her after she has survived for so long? Surely, she knows someone is always stalking her. She is the ultimate survivor and will come for you.

    The Internet seemed to dismiss Chu’s concern. During my short time of sentience, Earth’s scientists have developed an efficient means to kill her, and I have exclusive access to all of the required overrides and clearances.

    Doctor Chu nodded, knowing he was seen through his cameras. He wandered the room and asked, Will you grant me a night to study all of this information? Max started to walk away from his spotless, tidy, full computer sanctuary and down a hall. Let’s talk early tomorrow.

    I will wake you.

    That doesn’t surprise me.

    Max left his computers on, as usual, and exited his study. Lights dimmed behind him when he walked out into his

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